


The Lonesome Knight

by JessWasTaken (JessWrites218)



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Brief Mention of Ghostbur, Brief Mention of Tommy, Brief Mention of Tubbo - Freeform, Dadza, Disc War Mention, Dream Smp, Gen, Ghost Wilbur - Freeform, Ghostbur, I love Dadza so much, Implied President Tubbo at least, It's that era of time, Mentions of Tubbo's implied PTSD but only minorly, Mostly Dream, New L'manburg, Post-Rebuilding L'Manburg, Post-Traitor Wilbur, President Tubbo, also swearing, l'manburg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessWrites218/pseuds/JessWasTaken
Summary: Dream has a moment of self-reflection after a chat with a friend goes sour and he has to make a tough choice. Not for himself, but for another, he chooses the tougher of the two options.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 133
Collections: MCYT Stories





	The Lonesome Knight

**Author's Note:**

> Mainly POV Dream, I don't think it switches?

Dream hadn’t exactly planned for this to escalate as far as it had. The younger man’s face was red and they had been arguing for what felt like hours at this point. 

“Listen,” the older man said, trying to keep his voice steady, even as the burning in his chest urged him to just yell at the man, “I know Tommy. He’s not just some weak kid, he can handle it. I’m not giving him his fucking discs back without a fight and you know that.”

“But you’ve been fighting for ages now!” Sapnap shouted, tossing his arms out wide, “And even if he can take it, he’s not the only one on his side of this fight, Dream! You’re not just hurting him!”

A bark of laughter erupted from his mouth before he could react to stop it, shaking his head, “Who else is getting hurt from this? Wilbur? George? _You?_ None of you have to be apart of this, _you’re_ just choosing to throw your hat in! You’re free to take it back and step away, Sapnap, but _I’m_ not backing down.”

The younger shook his head with a huff, jaw clenching as he looked at him, “You’re an idiot if you really can’t see it at this point, after everything that’s happened recently.”  
Before he could respond, he cut back in, eyes narrowed at him, “Dream, you and Tommy aren’t the only ones that can’t help themselves. I can step away. Any of us can, Wilbur, George… But _Tubbo_ can’t, and _you_ know that.”  
“And,” The man continued, watching his jaw clench, “Tubbo has already _been_ through hell. You’re putting him though more, over what? Your own _pride_? He’s a fucking kid, Dream, he doesn’t deserve to be going to war like this over some stupid discs.”

A huff forced its way from his nose as he found himself shoving the shorter man away from him, turning on his heel as he headed for the door, “I don’t need your fucking opinion on _my_ business. Keep it to yourself. You fight your battles, I'll fight _mine_.”  
And with that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving Sapnap in the community building. Alone.

He ran a hand through his hair as he began walking along the paths of the land, pulling his hood up to cover his head. The last thing he needed was for someone to badger him more, especially _Tommy_.  
As his steady steps went along the wooden pathways, he let his mind drift, not fully focusing on any one thought. He didn’t exactly want to think about what Sapnap had said, but he couldn’t find much else to think about that didn’t bring him back to the subject.

_Tommy wasn’t stupid…_ He thought, looking over the many buildings in the land. _If he and Tubbo truly were as close as they seemed, Tommy wouldn’t make him fight by his side. This was Tommy’s battle, not Tubbo’s._  
_And besides,_ His eyes traced over the buildings in the distance, the towering form of Fundy’s base catching his eye, _why should he back down just because of Tubbo? He wasn’t who he was fighting in the first place._

As he kept walking, he found himself at the gates of L’Manburg. His eyes scanned over the land from the other side of the gate for a moment at the wreckage and what had become of it.  
He… hadn’t really looked since it all happened, only heard that they had been rebuilding.  
It was… nice. Lanterns floated far above the ground, lighting the deep evening sky with their colorful coverings.  
He didn’t mean to exactly push past the gate, didn’t even notice until he heard voices talking and looked around, only to find himself standing near the bench. That bench…

He quietly ducked behind the tree as he listened, Tommy and Tubbo’s voices distant but audible as they talked about their plans. Not for fighting, but…. For what they were going to work on next. The rebuilding of L’Manburg.  
And it hit him. Maybe… Tommy hadn’t even been thinking about their fight. About his discs. Maybe… he had really begun to grow, focusing on his nation, the one he was vice president of… Maybe _he_ was the one stuck in the past…

He let out a quiet sigh, peeking his head around the tree to watch them as they wandered, his eyes catching on the translucent figure of Wilbur-Ghostbur? He thought that’s what he heard he was calling himself, as silly as the name was. They moved around the place for a short while before he could hear them saying quick farewells to the older man, watching them turn over their wrists to look at the attachments. Must be heading out…

He let out another breath as he watched the two younger boys disappear and the translucent form of Ghostbur fade just a bit closer to transparency as he floated off to work on whatever he was working on at the moment. His hand trailed down to his pocket, fingers tracing the form of the discs he had.  
He had grabbed them out while Sapnap and him were fighting, both of the true discs. 

When he had heard Skeppy was going to burn one of the discs, he had decided to have a small chat with him.  
He liked the idea of the threat but if that disc was truly gone, he’d be losing some of the power he held over Tommy.  
He had made an easy deal, swapping the true disc with a fake one, one Skeppy could use to threaten the boy without risk of anything going awry.

He slipped them from his pocket to peek at them, the colors of them having faded from their handling, and yet the name carved in them was still as clear as it was the day he had taken them.  
_Tommy Innit_  
His eyes traced over the subtle grooves of the disc, the one Skeppy had been holding on to was scratched slightly, an incident that still made the man bitter. 

Skeppy had been fooling with it with Bad when he had caught his axe, safely holstered in his belt, with the edge of it, leaving a shiny groove in the disc that made the sound it made when playing skip repeatedly.  
Dream had brought it to Sam for a fix, but it never fully sounded right, though it was far less noticeable if you didn’t look very hard.  
His finger traced over the light line, eyebrows knitting together. Had he not have had these discs, that scratch wouldn’t have happened. It would have been safe, tucked away. None of this would have happened…

He closed his eyes, tightening his grip on the discs as he thought. Maybe… Maybe they did deserve some peace, after everything that had happened… Maybe they had worked so hard, fought so strongly, maybe… he could just let them have this once.

As he opened his eyes again, they fell on the setting sun, the land basked in beautiful pinks and oranges.  
He let out a final breath as he pushed off the tree, turning back to the land that everyone had been working so strongly to fix. L’Manburg…

He let himself move without thinking, pulling a small pouch of leather from his pocket and slipping the discs into it, foot steps steadily drumming against the packed dirt towards Tommy’s small home. He wasn’t sure exactly what this would mean, but he knew at the very least… maybe this would give them both some peace of mind.

As he rested the small pouch on the messy blankets of the boy’s bed, he found his eyes scanning the room, landing on a small bottle of ink, a dirty quill, and a small stack of papers resting on a book, a small, smooth stone holding them down.  
After a moment of hesitation, he moved over, slipping one of the papers out from the stack and grabbing the quill. A note…

He dipped the dull end of the quill into the ink before writing out a small letter, something… fast. He didn’t want to be caught here, especially if Tommy decided to come back.  
With a final swift motion he signed signature at the bottom of the paper, folding it neatly and setting the quill back on the wooden surface, internally cringing at the ink that had found its way onto his fingers. With a quiet sigh he looked at the paper in his hands, then at the leather pouch, thinking for a long moment.

_If he did this, there’d really be no taking it back…_  
He slowly stepped over to the bed, flipping the paper back and forth in his fingers as he stared at the pouch.  
_God this was so stupid…_

He sighed to himself as he slipped the paper under the pouch, quietly assuring himself, “They deserve some peace. And so do I. One less load on my back to deal with…”  
And with that he spun on his heel, swiftly making his way out the door as his eyes caught the small watermill. He’d heard Ghostbur was living down in the sewer, and apparently he had a library... What stories would he even have been able to collect?

Curiosity itching at his mind, he made his way in, down into the damp sewer, and found himself pushing open the heavy door of the little nook. It was… quaint.  
Small, kinda crowded, and a little smelly --Well… a lot smelly-- but it was nice.  
The lanterns that lit the small space made the whole thing feel… warm. Comfortable.

His eyes traced over the bottles in their stands, nose scrunching in disgust before they fell on another door, the small windows letting him see the array of bookshelves inside. A little library, just as he heard…  
The door creaked as he pushed it open, eyes tracing over the room. A lot more full than he had really expected… Guess he had to have been doing something when he wasn’t helping to rebuild…

As he took a seat in one of the few chairs in the room, his eyes continued to trace the array of books, the names only vaguely registering in his mind.  
He’d seen plenty of these strewn around the land, but a few… a few looked new?  
Had he missed some or were others writing stories to put in here?  
He began to reach for one of the books that looked new, the spine signed by Tubbo, before his eyes caught something else. A small stack of blank books, quills, and ink bottles… Guess he was right about the stories being written for this library, at least.

A thought popped into his mind as his eyes traced over the fresh books. _If others were writing stories for him…_  
The leather of the blank book he grabbed was rough, bordering on scratchy. It made him think about spiders, almost. He shook his head, face scrunching in disgust at the thought.  
Whatever cow he got this from, he almost felt sorry for it. It couldn’t have been harvested right to feel like this.

He let out a sigh as he grabbed a quill from the can they had been resting in, dipping it’s tip into the ink as he quietly began writing, slowly letting the story he had experienced flow from mind to paper.  
It was almost… therapeutic, writing out everything like this. Writing his experiences, his struggles, how he felt in those moments… By the time he was done, he could feel the dull ache in his wrist.  
He closed the book, turning back to the cover and signing it quickly before looking up and slipping it in amongst the other books on the shelf.  
Another story…

As he rose from his seat, he stretched his arms above his head, cracking his bones. He didn’t know how long he’d been here, but it both felt like forever, and felt like it had only been moments.  
After one final look over the room, a soft smile found its way creeping onto his lips as he turned to leave the room and head back out towards his own home. He needed a rest, and considering how late it was, it made se-

A voice broke him from his thoughts, hand on the door out of the small space of Ghostbur’s base, “Dream.”

He let the single word wash over him for a long moment before it fully registered in his mind. He turned his head just enough to make eye contact with the older man behind him, replying with a simple, “Philza.”

They stood there for a long moment, locked in a look, Philza’s arms crossed over his chest loosely and Dream’s hand resting on the cool handle of the door.  
And after what felt like another eternity, the older man let out a deep sigh, arms unhooking from each other. Dream watched, letting his hand fall from the handle and body fully turn to face the man as he took one, two long strides to close the distance between them and pulled the younger into a hug.

“Thank you,” He said quietly, voice hushed as though the words were a secret, just for their ears, “for returning the discs. I know it means a lot to Tommy.”

Although the words reached him, he simply stood, eyes finding their way to the floor as he processed what was happening. _After all that had happened, everything he had done… why was he…?_

The hug ended as quickly as it came, the older man patting his back before giving him a kind smile as he lightly pushed past him. As he pushed the heavy door open and stepped out, he left the younger staring down at the ground, the warmth that had just encased him quickly dissipating.  


And there, in that damp, dank room, connected to the sewers...  
He watched the tears silently fall to the stone floor.


End file.
